I must apologize for my recent lack of participation in the MOAB. There are times when one must pursue activities having to do with collecting pictures of dead presidents (plus non-presidents Hamilton and Franklin). Such activities leave one little time to devote to ruminant feces.

I am shocked and disheartened to hear of the passing of my once-beloved Bubba Bubba. I am glad that it appears that herit's end was sudden and painless. As for the former city of Seattle, Pike Street Market will be sorely missed, but if the destruction extended far enough outward from the city center to take a large chunk of Microsoft's holdings with it, I guess we'll call that an even trade.

I am pleased to hear that Bubba Bubba chose to name herit's hatchlings after yours truly. It sounds like little Ell is a chip off the old block. Though I've never actually eaten a Buick I did once pass a Toyota. If one of the little blighters would like to stop by for a visit, I have a couple of large diseased oak trees on my property that they are welcome to have for lunch. It'd save me from having to play Paul Bunyan.

BTW, this is post #1251 which just happens to be the month and year of my birth. If this thread makes it to 123,151, my birthdate, I've got dibs on it. Ya hear?

Naemanson, is there ever really an end to Bullshit around here?, Hell according to leedle hawkie not only are we the bsers of bs but he has now dubbed half of us assholes to which I feel honored and adored, as should all. As for Hawk, he should also feel honored and adored, for he is the M.A.N. (Main Asshole Now-a-days)! Har!Now the thing is, asshole can be taken several different ways.1. The most helpful part of your body, for without it, you would just be plain full of shit.2.The donkey hole which could be numerous in it's definition. An eye, an ear, a mouth, etc...3.It could be an abbreviation for assagai hole, which could mean either you were pierced by an arrow, or you represent an accurate and skillful sport. As I said, several different meanings to one little word. Imagine that.

I hear ya, RR -- ain't it something, really, how much we can hang on the back of one of them little words, and do they complain? Not hardly!!

It's just amazing what they will put up with. If someone tried to jam me that full of different meanings to carry around, and multiple concepts fer each meaning, and so on, I'd just put my foot down. I would balk, and so would you, truth be known. But you never hear of words doing that. Oh, no, they're true blue. That's why I am so fond of the little fellers -- they'll just keep going as long as they are called upon to serve or until they drop dead from being overly ill-defined one too many times. That's loyalty, and if you were looking for loyalty, why words is a good place to start. That's what I think.

Right on, guys! And just consider how many meanings and usages the common word "f*ck" has...it's virtually endless in its applications. The meaning must be deduced almost entirely from the context, rather than by literal interpretation. Amazing, ain't it?

The word solypsism, on the other hand, has only one use (that I know of) but it's still a very cool word.

Well, I know why I dreamed you up. First of all, I needed a really good librarian to emanate order into the universe, which has, you will agree, grown somewhat chaotic of late; and second I needed someone to catch up to as fast as I could go. Why not, I thought, do two kilns with one stoned bird? As the old saying goes...

Can this be the cong`e of the Mother? The swan song to the end? Bullshit at the caf`e has had it's Terminus Ad Quem? Has it's telic been reached? The `tout ensemble has `tout `a fait and `tout de suite pretermitted? Ah, good fellows, don't be lugubrious, because I'm bringing it back up without a thing to vocalize.

Viva la Mother of all BS threads!

Can this be Deja Vu?

No....

I don't think I was watching the moon rise over the trees, sitting at my computer completely naked,rubbing my belly, thinking I'm Budda like,waiting for this thread to load while drinking filtered water out of a coconut, realizing that today could be tomorrowand knowing this thread will not die on my account.

I was naked at my computer too, but nothing much happened except that I stuck to vinyl chair, causing my wife great merriment. You ever walk around with a vinyl chair stuck to your butt? I hoped that it would come loose before the fire department had to be called to get me loose.

Rapaire, What the hell you doing sitting nekkid at your computer with your chair stuck to your butt in the middle of the day? Don't you know your neighbors are watching? At least I respect my neighbors enough to do it late at night when they are sleeping. Wouldn't want them to go cardiac on me.

Speaking of nekkid, tonight I'm wearing socks. Green socks. Green socks that could come half-way up my calves if I was so inclined to lean over and pull them up.

That's bery wise, not wanting them to go cardiac on ya. Gives a whole new meaning to the concept of lethal weapons. You sure you aren't supposed to register those things?

Great idea for the Temple of the Holy Curve, in the how-do-you-prove-a-miracle department, eh? Anyone who has killed through pulchritude alone needs to register their death-dealing duo with the Claims of Lethality department of the Head Office, under brother Curvus Collectus. When the autopsy and the coroner's report and the brother's own personal investigation are complete you can be promoted to lethalhood.

But just to be clear, its not like registering to vote or registering at the DMV. More like registering at Grauman's Chinese Theater.

Neighbors nothing, I was at work! You see, we were stringing barbed wire around the library when some of it snapped back and whacked me right in the middle of the forehead. Now, the forehead is full of little veins and things, and bleeds a LOT when cut open, like mine was. So there I was, my hands full of barbed wire and blood just GUSHING down from my forehead, soaking my clothes, making my shoes all squishy. I wouldn't, of course, have minded much except that this was my VERY OWN BLOOD! Fortunately, one of the staff members saw my situation and managed to free the wire from my hands and I could then clap my hands to my forehead and stop the bleeeding (I told everyone that I really did NOT need a tourniquet around my neck for such a minor wound). I sloshed off to my office, where I took off my clothes so that I wouldn't have to sit in them, and called my wife to bring my some fresh clothes. I used some of those moist towelette things to clean up and I sat down at the computer to get some work done. Long about the time she brought my clothes, I was stuck to the chair. I was fortunate enough that she helped me, but I found her giggling and laughter less than sympathetic.

The only question, Mister Rapaire, is that you say you were stringing barb wire around the library, and I have to ask for the record -- what the hell for? To keep the reference books from escaping? All you have to do is figure out which one is the lead reference figure -- it is usually one of the older encyclopediae or the largest dictionary -- and tether that one to a shelf. All the other reference books will stay relatively close to the primary work, and you won't need to be messing about with no bobwahr.

Bobwahr around the reference section, eh? Dang, the old wide-open spacious fields of knowledge ain't whut they were when I were a wrangler! When a boy could travel across the plains of information from Saturday morning until dinnertime and never even be bothered by tyhe librarian!!

Sure is different now -- bobwahr, huh...and them purity filters and such. T'ain't the same, no suh. Wonder if Montana's still free....

Spaw wants us to associate the large black characters in the post above with a sound encountered in nature, at least his nature. It is really a form of morphemic abuse. Little Hawk, take note.

Now, for example, he knew it was going to be a waste of time -- he asserts this quite clearly above -- and he went ahead and wasted the time anyway. And then in the same breath he calls US numbnuts. At least we don't go wasting time we know about ahead of time!! Who, the, is the numbnuts here?

The truth is that every time I read this thread again, I hope to find some sort of redeeming social or literary value in it.

No, this thread is definitely not about anyway. Anyway has its own thread somewhere. Try typing "anyway" into the filter box. This thread is about BS, which is short for "boiled shrimp". Boiled shrimp are okay, but boiled crawfish are better. I guess we could start a thread about boiled crawfish, and call it the "Mother of All BC Threads", but some folks might think it was about headache remedies or a comic strip. And besides, boiled crawfish are a more-or-less regional thing whereas boiled shrimp are more universal. The length of this thread will attest to that universality. A thread about boiled crawfish would never reach 1300 posts.

Of course, there is the issue of "boiled prawns". Do they deserve their own thread, or are they closely enough related to boiled shrimp to fall under the BS umbrella? If boiled prawns were given their own thread it would be the "Mother of All BP Threads", and lots of folks would think it was about the oil company and then they would post anti-oil rants and be embarassed later when they discovered their mistakes.

By the way, I almost asked, "What's the difference between shrimp and prawns anyway?", but it's a silly question. Everone knows that the difference between shrimp and prawns is definitely not anyway. Don't know what it is, but it's certainly not anyway.

MOAB! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, Tell them, dear, that if noses were made for seeing,* Then BS is its own excuse for being: Why thou wert there, O rivetter of the nose! I never thought to ask, I never knew: But, in my simple ignorance, suppose The self-same BS that brought me there brought you.

Lo, in the waning of the year, The growing of the charm which brought us here! For Autumn frosts the summer's smelling eyes And winter shows her seasoning to the wise; Yet, while the threnody of Sleep grow stronger, Our vital rhythm of BS grows stronger!

How then tomorrow? Will we sleep and die? Call for the priest? For once and all, confess? Or will some trace perfume, sensed by the eye, Revive us with the Power of BS?

Yet at my back I always hear Late Khandu's winged BS hurrying near: And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast BS and sky. BS, thy Beauty shall no more be found; Nor, in thy dry and dusty Vault, shall sound My echoing Song: then Worms shall try That long preserv'd BS-ity: And your quaint humors turn to spit; And into ashes all my sh*t. This thread's a fine confusing mess, 'Cause it preserves the best BS.

Nay! Nay! This thread is not too long! Nor does it "hang... way out there with no place to go". In fact, this thread is no longer a thread. It has transcended threadness. It has become an institution, a movement, a religion. "Thread" is simply its outward manifestation that allows people like Peter Woodruff to access it. We who have been with it since its inception know that if it were closed tomorrow - if Max were to say "Enough!" - it would continue in a higher plane. It has inspired poetry, grammatical errors, and the creation of entire alien civilizations. And it has done it all while never running out of banana pudding or fried chicken!

Peter Woodruff is obviously a heretic and should be burned or even bruned (as I first typed). I shall report him to the Most Holy And Awfully Awesome Inquisition as such, and they can deal with him. Perhaps the strappado, perhaps the boots, but he will confess his errors and be turned over to the civil arm for execution -- after, of course, confessing his sins, pleading for forgiveness and reconciliation with Mother.